


After Drinks

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Lower Wards, The Citadel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 04:43:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11502006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: A treat for BethAdastra, featuring Shep and Nihlus and a very unexpected date location. I always wondered where Nihlus would take Shep during the events of the Citadel DLC, and this is what I came up with. ^^





	After Drinks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BethAdastra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethAdastra/gifts).



The email on her terminal had just said ‘dress to impress.’ For Shepard, that was a baffling statement. Her N7 gear, tailored to her precise proportions, was impressive. Her military dress uniform had a certain gravitas to it. And then there was the dress, hung in the back of her wardrobe, much neglected and pretty much forgotten. Upon a minute’s thinking, that was probably what he meant, but the dress was as foreign of an object as anything she had ever encountered on a hostile planet. 

It clung to her body in strange, vaguely unpleasant ways. There was no way Shepard would be able to run in this- at least, not without ripping the fabric. It left nothing to the imagination, airing concerns she hadn’t had since she had been a teenager. The number of people in the galaxy she would be willing to do this for could be counted on one hand, possibly on a single digit. Nihlus. 

Heaving a sigh, she added the final touch. It would look like a necklace from a distance, but in reality she still wore her dogtags, the chain upgraded from basic metal to something silver and delicate. Not practical, but what about this outfit was? It made her feel grounded, more like herself, to feel them lying somewhere beneath the dress and directly against her skin. Commander Shepard, Earth Alliance, N7. Spectre. No matter how ridiculous she looked, that was who she was, and there was comfort in that. 

Nihlus was on time to the minute, punctual as always. He met her where the Normandy was docked to the rest of the Citadel, armor exchanged for a tailored turian tunic, all black, the faintest hint of burgundy accents that brought out his own unique coloring and made his facial markings all the more vivid. It was, she decided, a good look for him, even if his posture was still military straight rather than relaxed, hands occasionally reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. She felt naked herself, with no gun, and the dress’ tight weave wouldn’t even allow space for a knife. 

“So… how do I look?” Nihlus gestured for her to turn and Shepard did so, shrugging her shoulders. It was a dress and she had fulfilled the spirit of his request. 

“Like the best-looking Spectre in the galaxy.” His words managed the desired effect; quirking a grin, Shepard reached up and kissed him on the cheek, his plates hard beneath her lips. “Step into the shuttle, Shepard.” There was one waiting for them already, humming softly, the autopilot set for some location in the Lower Wards. Not exactly her idea of a date night place, but okay. For now, she was willing to roll with it. 

The ride over to their surprise location was uncharacteristically silent. Nihlus seemed almost nervous, periodically looking at her and then out the window, though his hand rested on top of hers. Shepard wanted to tell him to calm down, but she understood where he was coming from, if she was going to be completely honest. People like them didn’t get normal dates or normal days out. Cut loose, they both had almost no idea of what to do. 

The shuttle finally stopped, pulling up to a particularly grimy area that even Shepard hadn’t visited before. The fact that it was bustling despite all the obvious filth was a comfort; there was barely any light down here, and no windows facing out to the vastness of space, but people seemed happy despite it all. Life went on, and it would do her some good to spend more time on the Citadel in general. 

“Follow me, Shepard. I think you’ll like this place.” Taking her hand, Nihlus gently tugged, some of his former confidence returning. A few people seemed to recognize him, offering waves that he returned, looking at her with curiosity but no hostility. Even down here, they recognized Commander Shepard. Maybe especially down here. 

Through neon lights, Nihlus led her to a door that was almost unmarked, a hand painted sign all that indicated that it might be a business. Whatever it had once said was illegible to the point where even a translator couldn’t pick it out for her, though one word remained painted over, lovingly retouched: bar. 

“Found this place when I was doing Spectre business. Best damn alcohol in the Citadel- dextro or human. They specialize in beer, but they have other things. I think.” He hesitated before opening the door for her, and if Shepard thought the lower wards had been dark, they seemed positively well-lit in comparison. A few figures could be made out, wreathed in a haze of distinctly illegal cigar smoke, a fire hazard if she had ever seen one. Sometimes these places had their charm, but that was not the case today. 

Nihlus was still looking at her expectantly. “It’s… It has a lot of character?” It was apparently enough for Nihlus, who led her up to the bar and quickly placed an order for both of them, not even looking at her as he did so. “I do like it when you take charge,” Shepard purred in his ear, and she was rewarded with a start. If turians could blush, Nihlus would grow even more red. 

The mugs looked dirty, but as they sat down in a booth with broken vinyl cushions, the beer was cold and surprisingly tasty, possibly actually the best that Nihlus had promised. 

“Always had a fantasy of meeting a pretty woman in a place like this. I’d ask what a woman like you was doing in a seedy joint like this where she’s clearly too high-class.” 

Shepard was more than happy to take up the challenge. “And I guess I’d say I was waiting for you and a good, stiff drink.” She took a sip to emphasize her point. 

They sat and drank for a few minutes, Shepard simply taking it all in. It wasn’t so bad once you had a beer in your system, she reflected, the pleasant haze only made better by the smoke. 

“I guess at this point, I’d ask the woman if she wanted to come home with me.” Nihlus broke their drinking just as they were running low. 

Tilting her glass to get the last drop, Shepard put it down. “I think you’d have to wait for a few more drinks to ask that. If I was a complete stranger.” The beer had been stronger than she thought, taking her to that precipice that lay between good and bad decisions more quickly than she thought possible. 

“It’s a good thing you aren’t a complete stranger then, isn’t it?” Nihlus had a point there, and as he stood and again extended his hand, Shepard took the opportunity to pull him close and hiss him, lips eventually drifting to the approximate location of turian ‘ears’, nibbling the edge of his crest. 

“I guess that is a good thing,” she purred, and when they called the shuttle again, it took them to someplace far more familiar.


End file.
